


The Chronicles of Monk Sanzo

by Denshi_Alpha



Category: Saiyuki, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Feudal Japan, Alternate Universe - Historical, Crossover, Dubious Consent, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denshi_Alpha/pseuds/Denshi_Alpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the adventures of the honourable monk Genjo Sanzo through excerpts of ancient chronicles and accounts of what actually happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chronicles of Monk Sanzo

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the warnings: non-graphic violence, dub-con/non-con, incest, language  
> Originally written for saiyuki_wk_au@LJ

**The flow of time erases the deeds of men like waves erase the footprints in the sand. Yet the memories of those deeds may remain in** _chronicles._ **And those are often different from** the truth.  
***

_Ages ago there dwelled in the land of Mikawa a monk named Kouryuu. While yet a boy, he had surpassed his teachers in the understanding of Buddhist teachings and obtained the title of Genjo Sanzo._ Also, he was known as ‘that cranky bastard’. 

_In the sixth year of Genroku era a great misfortune befell the land. Monsters and demons had infested all country. No place was safe. Children were killed in their cradles, travellers – on the roads, peasants – in the fields. The shogun ordered his warriors to protect the land, but they could not prevail over the hordes of revolting creatures. The land was falling into darkness, people despaired. The Goddess of Mercy heeded their anxious prayers and asked monk Genjo Sanzo to protect the land, and he obeyed her request._

‘You want me to do what?’ Sanzo repeated incredulously. 

‘Sanzo, dear, not so loud, I have such a migraine!’ the Goddess of Mercy complained. 

‘You have a hangover,’ Sanzo corrected. 

‘How sad that someone so young and beautiful is so cynical,’ she sighed theatrically. ‘That’s why I’m telling you to go on that mission. Fighting demons could help you release all that pent-up tension. Or we could always...’ She bent closer to Sanzo, making her sloppily tied kimono slide open a little more. 

‘...Find another way to loosen you up,’ she purred.

Sanzo got up so quickly he almost tripped over his feet: ‘All right, I’ll do that!’ 

_The Goddess told monk Genjo Sanzo that the disturbance in the land comes from the awakening of the great demon king. If monk Sanzo could locate the demon king lair and stop his resurrection, life would return to normal. So monk Genjo Sanzo set out on a journey fraught with perils and hardships._

Sanzo as a rule did not talk to himself – he could not say anything he would not know already, so what was the point. But that was a special occasion that merited a reaction. 

‘Well, fuck,’ Sanzo growled, peering into his empty tobacco case. And there was no guarantee he would find something to stuff in his pipe in the next village. To take his mind off the tobacco-less journey, Sanzo decided to have a game of shiritori with himself. Using only the swearwords. 

_Monk Genjo Sanzo was a man of benign disposition and never refused his help to anyone. One evening, in a small mountain village he saved a child trapped in a cave. And, as every good deed receives a reward, three venerable sages from the village shared their wisdom with monk Sanzo._

‘Has Sanzo-sama heard about t h a t?’ one of the geezers lisped.

‘Ooooh, t h a t!’ the other one crooned. The third just gave Sanzo a toothless grin.

‘In two day’s walk from here in the forest there is a man-eating cave!’ the first said. ‘My second cousin’s grandson’s friend got eaten there. Chomp! went the cave. Poor boy!’

‘Wasn’t it a girl?’ the second argued. 

‘Well, I’ve never heard of that!’ the first snapped, annoyed at the interruption. The third old man, obviously senile, started drooling. 

Sanzo grit his teeth, almost biting the stem off his pipe. In the course of the last three hours the damn old-timers had told him every local legend they could remember, and now they obviously were making things up. And they had given him no leads whatsoever.

‘I’m leaving,’ Sanzo announced. The two arguing old men didn’t even notice, the third waived.

_Monk Genjo Sanzo travelled farther and farther into the wild lands. One day, he encountered a kitsune. The fox, being a mischievous creature, tried to lead monk Sanzo astray from his path, but the holy man was not deceived by the kitsune._

‘Hey human, what are you doing here all alone?’ the fox asked, as it walked out from the forest where Sanzo was unsuccessfully trying to build a fire. Sanzo glanced at the speaker and shrugged. 

‘It’s dangerous alone in the woods, human,’ continued the fox.

Sanzo snorted: ‘The most dangerous in these woods is me.’

The fox laughed hoarsely: ‘Kinda full of yourself, aren’t you?’

‘Kind of big enough for fox fur gloves,’ thought Sanzo, appraising the kitsune.

‘How mean!’ the fox complained. ‘And here I was giving you a piece of good advice.’

‘You can read my mind?’ Sanzo asked.

The kitsune nodded, the human gesture looking odd on a fox: ‘Right now you’re thinking “You must be shitting me!” and now you’re thinking...nothing. Impressive. You a monk?’

Sanzo rolled his eyes – as if that was not obvious from his clothes.

‘You could’ve stolen them. It’s what I do when I go human. Besides, you’ve got hair,’ the kitsune explained. 

‘Go human?’ Sanzo asked, choosing not to comment on his hair – it was none of the damn fox’s business.

‘Like this,’ the kitsune said and changed. Suddenly instead of the red fox a naked red-haired young man was sitting at Sanzo’s still-not-burning-damn-it campfire. Sanzo looked over the man. The most vivid feature was, of course, the fiery hair. The man was quite thin, and, as Sanzo looked further down, well endowed. 

‘Like what you see?’ the man asked, taking an indecent pose. 

‘I thought you’d have giant balls,’ Sanzo blandly replied.

‘That’s tanuki, man!’ the kitsune objected in an offended tone. ‘My name’s Shu, by the way.’ 

The kitsune looked at Sanzo so expectantly that he caved in under the pressure of that blue-eyed gaze and told the kitsune his name. 

‘Can it really be the great Sanzo-sama, slayer of demons, defender of innocents, sun of Buddhism, etc., etc. Even in our secluded little wood we get to hear things about you. This makes the whole thing challenging,’ the fox predatorily grinned, and once again attempted to invade Sanzo’s mind. All he got for his efforts was an amazingly detailed picture of a skinned fox.

‘All right, I got it, I got it. No more poking in your brain,’ Shu said. ‘Is there any other place where you want me to poke you?’

‘Tch,’ was all Sanzo replied. He had finally managed to light a fire, and was trying to prepare some food, but the fox’s presence was annoying. And the damn kitsune was actually humming a tune! Sanzo listened closer and heard the words: ‘Two Buddhist monks sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I...’

‘Shut up or die,’ Sanzo growled.

‘Why so serious, Sanzo-sama?’ Shu drawled and crept closer to Sanzo, finally daring to go as far as putting a hand on Sanzo’s shoulder. ‘You’re a monk, you wouldn’t kill an innocent creature?’ 

‘Molesting a monk is a mortal sin,’ Sanzo deadpanned, as he removed the offending hand from his shoulder, making sure to squeeze it until he heard the bones crunch. ‘Get the hell out of here before I kill you.’

‘You’re no fun,’ complained Shu, massaging his hand. He changed back into a fox and trotted away, pausing for a parting shot: ‘You won’t find another hot piece of tail like me round these parts, stupid! You totally missed out on...’

Sanzo began chant the sutra. The kitsune ran away with a considerable speed.

_Further on his journey, monk Genjo Sanzo encountered a bakeneko. The holy man talked to the creature and deemed it harmless. So the demon cat was free to go. In gratitude, the bakeneko told monk Sanzo a strange tale of a haunted castle where monk Sanzo could, in all probability, find some clues about the demon king’s lair._

It was getting dark, and the outdated map was not helping. 

‘Looks like another night in the woods,’ Sanzo thought and spat, neatly hitting a poisonous-looking mushroom. Where were all the secluded monasteries and woodcutter shacks when he needed a place to stay? 

Suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes, and a person appeared. A closer look showed Sanzo that it was a young male in a girly kimono, and with inexpertly applied makeup. And he had cat ears.

‘Tch,’ Sanzo said. The youngsters these days, and the fashions they come up with.

‘Travelling monk-sama, nyan!’ the fashion disaster said. ‘I’m a bakeneko, nyan. Share your food with me, or I’ll put a curse on you, nyan!’

Sanzo was less than impressed by that demand: ‘You don’t look like a bakeneko to me.’

‘See my ears, nyan! And I have claws, too, nyan!’ the self-proclaimed bakeneko told him, showing off a hand on which a metallic contraption was apparently meant to play the role of claws.

‘They are obviously fake,’ Sanzo blandly replied. ‘And aren’t demon cats supposed to charm people into doing what they want, not blackmail?’

‘Obviously fake? You bastard, do you have any idea how long it took me to make them!’ the demon cat protested, and then looked horrified, as it dawned on him that he just had confirmed Sanzo’s words.

‘Um, that came out wrong, what I meant was...’ he tried, but Sanzo interrupted: ‘You forgot to nyan.’ 

The bakeneko looked rather stunned, apparently things were not going the way he had planned. He decided that honesty would be the best policy: ‘All right, you got me. I’m not a bakeneko. And I’m not a girl, either, ok?’

‘Tch, so why this masquerade?’ Sanzo asked.

‘Well, nobody has ever heard of male demon cats, you know. And this bakeneko scam was bringing me some food. People are easily frightened round these parts, the haunted castle has spooked everyone,’ the fake bakeneko explained.

The last sentence piqued Sanzo’s interest: ‘What haunted castle?’

‘Huh, you don’t know? The last daimyo died, and his castle is now full of demons, and monsters, and who knows what. They say the demon king might be living there. Totally dangerous place,’ the bakeneko told Sanzo with some excitement. 

‘And where is that castle?’ Sanzo asked. 

‘First take the road out of the forest, then at the crossroads go left. But you shouldn’t go there, seriously,’ now the bakeneko wannabe sounded anxious. ‘It’s a bad place.’

‘Nice of you to worry about me,’ grumbled Sanzo, and walked away in the indicated direction.

_Monk Genjo Sanzo found his way to the haunted castle, and was surprised at its dilapidated state. Yet his heart did not falter, and he entered the abode of demons. In the castle monk Sanzo encountered a sight that made him avert his eyes – a human was being debased by an abominable winged demon in a manner most vile and cruel._

No matter how you looked at it, it was rape. Sanzo’s experiences had been rather limited, but he had no doubts about what exactly he was witnessing. A demon, one of the big, ugly, scaly, dragon-like types was rhythmically moving over a supine male body. The human, his clothes in disarray and his shockingly red hair messily spilled over his bare shoulders, seemed to be unconscious – he lay limply on the floor, his eyes were closed.

Sanzo never considered himself a do-gooder who pokes his nose in other people’s affairs, but this scene disgusted him. He stepped out of the shadows, stood eye to eye with the demon and began chanting the sutra. 

The demon hissed, removed itself from the human’s body with a sickening wet sound, and disappeared before Sanzo managed to complete the spell. 

‘Damn,’ said Sanzo. The creature was fast. A weak groan made Sanzo look down – the human had opened his eyes, which had the same red colour as his hair, and said: ‘Why the hell did you jump in? Now you made her angry.’

‘Her?’ Sanzo raised an eyebrow. He had tried not to look, but he was pretty sure he had seen a part of demon’s anatomy that average females did not have. 

‘That was, technically, my mother,’ the redhead explained.

‘So, your mother has a dick,’ Sanzo remarked, thinking that the human was probably insane.

‘Fuck you,’ the man replied, getting up slowly. He leaned against a wall without even trying to arrange his clothes in a more decent manner and asked: ‘Who the hell are you, anyway?’

‘A travelling monk, looking for a place to spend the night,’ Sanzo promptly replied. That was his usual answer to deal with inquisitive minds. 

‘A holy man in this cursed place. Life is sure a funny thing,’ the redhead chuckled. ‘I’m sort of the owner of this house, you may call me Lord Sha.’

‘Hnn,’ Sanzo replied, quietly resolving not to, under any circumstances, call that guy a lord – he only met the redhead a moment ago, but that man was already annoying beyond measure. 

They glared at each other, but the tense silence in the room was broken when another man walked in and immediately fussed around the redhead: ‘Oh dear, Gojyo! Are you all right? Did that monster hurt you bad? Do you want me to carry you to your room?’

So the self-proclaimed lord’s name was Gojyo, Sanzo thought, trying not to smirk at Gojyo’s attempts to tell the newcomer they were not alone in the room and ‘Hakkai, don’t touch me there right now!’

At long last the message seemed to reach, and the newcomer looked at Sanzo and said with impeccable manners: ‘Forgive my rudeness, we don’t often get visitors. I am Hakkai, the caretaker for Lord Sha’s household.’

He paused, giving Sanzo an opportunity to introduce himself, which Sanzo grudgingly did, and spoke again, promising to arrange a room for Sanzo as soon as his lord’s needs were seen to. 

Gojyo limped away, supported by Hakkai, and Sanzo was left alone to contemplate the situation. Something was slightly off with these people, Sanzo thought. Gojyo’s odd hair colour was suspicious; Sanzo was sure he had heard something about people with red eyes, too. And that Hakkai was a weird character – the way his hair hung all over his face, leaving only one eye visible, that man was definitely hiding something. 

Speak of the devil, Hakkai arrived to direct Sanzo to his rooms, and Sanzo inwardly shrugged – odd though these people were, investigation of oddities could wait until he had eaten.

_The monstrous demon had fled, fearing monk Sanzo, and the grateful inhabitants of the castle prepared a feast for him. Monk Sanzo, being a humble man, was unused to such luxuries, but accepted the feast as the castle residents begged him to. A bath was prepared for monk Sanzo, too, and he rejoiced that the castle inhabitants treated monks with respect as pious people should. Yet after that they begged a favour of monk Sanzo, and refusing it would break the rules of hospitality._

Sanzo was about to go to sleep, when he heard a knock on the door. He strode through the room and threw the door open, ready to glare at any person who dared to intrude. It was Hakkai.

‘If you came to apologise about the quality or quantity of food, don’t bother. I didn’t expect much from the looks of this place,’ Sanzo announced.

‘I didn’t come to apologise, I came to ask for a favour, Sanzo-sama,’ Hakkai replied, and to Sanzo’s shock, gracefully knelt on the floor, bending down to touch the worn floorboards with his forehead.

‘Get up, I had enough of this kneeling shit back at the monastery,’ Sanzo grumbled.

‘Will you hear me out?’ Hakkai asked in a slightly muffled voice. 

‘All right, but I’m not making any promises,’ Sanzo replied, even though he already had a good guess as to the nature of Hakkai’s request.

Hakkai got up and said: ‘I would like you to destroy the monster you saw in our home today.’

‘Hmm, you sure Gojyo won’t mind? He said it’s his mother,’ Sanzo remarked.

Hakkai frowned: ‘Gojyo, that is, Lord Sha told you that? I suppose you need to hear the full story to understand.’

Sanzo almost groaned – it sounded like a damn long story, there went his sleep. Still, he could not help but feel somewhat interested, so he did not object much.

Hakkai began his tale: ‘Lord Sha’s father was the daimyo of these lands. He was a... complex man.’ 

Sanzo wondered how such depths of disapproval apparent in Hakkai’s tone could be incorporated in such a simple description. 

‘The late daimyo imagined himself superior to human beings and considered humans unfit to be his companions,’ Hakkai continued. ‘My father was a scribe and a chronicler serving the late daimyo. My father was interested in magic and the supernatural. Unfortunately, the daimyo found out about that interest and ordered my father to do the unthinkable – summon a supernatural being so daimyo could make it his wife.’

Sanzo shook his head at human stupidity, while Hakkai went on, in a more bitter tone: ‘I was too young to remember, but later I read my father’s papers. Apparently he thought it would be a fun challenge, an intellectual exercise, so to say. He summoned a demon and sealed it in a female form.’

‘The daimyo must have been happy,’ Sanzo remarked.

‘Quite,’ Hakkai dryly agreed. ‘He married the creature, and in due time she bore him a son – Lord Sha.’

Sanzo nodded, that definitely explained that man’s unusual colours. 

Hakkai continued: ‘That was the beginning of the downfall. People of the household ran away one by one – nobody wanted to live under one roof with a demon. Rumours about the daimyo and his wife had reached the shogun, and a new daimyo was appointed, on the pretence that Lord Sha’s father failed to uphold the peace in the land. Only the daimyo’s most loyal servants remained in the half-empty home.’

Hakkai shook his head, as if trying to get rid of the unpleasant memories. Sanzo coughed meaningfully to get Hakkai back on track, and the man went on with the story: ‘Then the disaster struck. My father died, and with that, the seal on daimyo’s wife was broken and she, or rather, it returned to its original form. It killed everyone but Gojyo and me.’

‘Maternal feelings?’ Sanzo asked.

‘Not likely,’ Hakkai gave a sad smile. ‘The demon hated Gojyo and wanted to make him suffer before it murdered him. So it announced it would hunt down and kill every person who had worked for the late daimyo and witnessed its shame at being sealed in the pathetic human form. And the families of those people, too – so that nobody could pass the story on.’

Hakkai paused again, and Sanzo thought he could guess where the story was going: ‘Gojyo, no, Lord Sha, was brought up as the son of the daimyo, even when his father no longer held the title. At that time, he was idealistic, he believed that the duty of the strong is to protect the weak. I suppose, part of that was my fault – I had often told him stories about heroic deeds I had read in my father’s chronicles. He decided that his duty was to protect the people, and announced he would do anything to prevent the monster from slaughtering everyone.’

Sanzo could not help but roll his eyes – what an amateur! When dealing with demons making such statements was like putting a seal on one’s own suicide note. 

‘The demon knew Gojyo well,’ Hakkai went on so quietly Sanzo had to strain his ears. ‘It chose the best arrangement to break his proud, generous spirit. The results of that arrangement is what you saw today.’

Sanzo shuddered in revulsion, that scene would probably haunt his nightmares. ‘How often does that happen?’ he asked.

‘As often as the monster wishes. Lord Sha must be... available at any time,’ Hakkai replied in a tone so full of hate that the demon should have disintegrated from the sheer intensity of it. ‘At least the creature honours the deal, it has not killed anyone.’

‘And how long has this been going on?’ asked Sanzo. 

‘Three years,’ Hakkai replied.

‘Three years?’ Sanzo repeated incredulously. ‘And the two of you just sit here and take it? What about fighting back? Or are you complete cowards?’

Anger flared in Hakkai’s only visible eye: ‘Fighting back?’ He lifted his hair out of his face and turned to give Sanzo a better look. Only Sanzo’s iron self-control did not let him gasp in shock – where another eye should have been, Hakkai had an empty black hole, surrounded by scarred, twisted flesh.

Hakkai let go of his hair and asked Sanzo: ‘Would you like to see the scar on my stomach I got when I tried fighting back another time? It’s even more exotic than this one, if you are into these things.’

‘No,’ replied Sanzo, for the lack of anything better to say.

‘Sanzo-sama, this is not a regular demon. It’s impossible to kill it by force, and simply saying “akuryo taisan” would not bring any results. I investigated my father’s archives, but I still don’t have enough knowledge to destroy this creature,’ Hakkai said, his voice almost desperate. ‘Therefore I beg you...’

‘Alright, alright, I’ll see what I can do!’ hastily interrupted Sanzo, afraid that Hakkai would flop on his knees again. ‘When do you think the demon will return?’

‘Soon,’ darkly replied Hakkai. ‘You interrupted its fun and made it angry, it will return to take its frustration out on Lord Sha.’

‘I’ll come up with something,’ Sanzo said, letting Hakkai know that the conversation was over. Hakkai bowed, bade Sanzo good night and walked out of the room.

Sanzo slowly undressed for the night and considered his strategy. The exorcism of the demon as such would not be difficult. Hakkai’s father might have had lots of occult texts in his archives, but nothing could compare with a sutra recited by a monk. But keeping the monster still to make the sutra do the work would be difficult – the creature was simply too fast. 

Using force would be useless, it would definitely break any ropes or chains they could get. No, the restraints would have to be of a supernatural origin. And then it occurred to him that a variation of ofuda could be useful. 

‘Yes,’ said Sanzo to himself with some satisfaction and went to sleep.

The inhabitants of the castle begged monk Genjo Sanzo to exorcise the vile creature that haunted their castle. The compassionate monk Sanzo could not refuse the pleas of the people, and devised a ingenious plan to destroy the demon. 

‘So, let me get this straight, you write bits of your magic gibberish on scraps of paper, move ‘em around and that will trap the demon? Wow, Hakkai, sounds so simple, how come you didn’t think of that?’ Gojyo asked sarcastically.

‘It’s not magic gibberish, you moron. These are words of a sacred sutra, they are passed down through generations of monks!’ Sanzo hissed, already feeling sorry he agreed to try and save that worthless man. 

‘Whatever, as long as it works! Are you sure it will work?’ Gojyo asked, unsuccessfully trying to appear calm.

‘Gojyo, don’t worry! Sanzo-sama knows what he is doing!’ Hakkai smiled. ‘Now we only need to wait for the demon to come.’

They did not have to wait long; the demon appeared next day. Sanzo and Hakkai were watching the demon through holes in the wall they had made for this very purpose. The monster approached Gojyo and pushed him down on the floor.

Sanzo glanced at Hakkai – the man was clenching his teeth so hard Sanzo could almost hear them crumble, and he was pale as paper. Sanzo looked through the peephole again – the demon seemed to be quite engaged in ripping Gojyo’s clothes to shreds. 

‘Now,’ Sanzo whispered, and placed the last ofudu in the carefully calculated place. The shape was complete, and the spell started working. The demon felt it immediately – it gave a roar and flapped the wings, but could not escape.

Hakkai ran into that room, shouting: ‘Gojyo, get away from it!’ 

Gojyo got up and stood aside, watching the monster struggle against the magic restraints. At that moment, Sanzo unhurriedly walked into the room. He ignored the looks of both other humans – they obviously wanted him to get on with it, but hurry was unadvisable. Calm mind and heart was the key to successful exorcism.

‘Hey, she-bitch!’ Sanzo addressed the demon. The creature roared in answer.

‘You had a neat deal with this human here, but I’ll offer you a new deal. You’ll tell me all you know about the demon king, and I’ll make your death fast,’ Sanzo offered.

‘Pathetic human! As if you could ever kill me!’ the demon said. It was the first time Sanzo heard its voice, and he did not like the sound of it.

‘I’m not like these two; I am Genjo Sanzo. I’m sure you’ve heard the name before,’ Sanzo said.

The creature hissed – the name obviously was familiar. But the demon was not going to speak, it struggled against the spell even more vigorously.

‘Sanzo, I think it’s stalling for time,’ calmly said Hakkai. ‘I believe it will attempt to get free.’ 

Sanzo growled – he could see that himself, he had to start reciting the sutra, or the ofudu would not hold. Yet he could not just kill the demon, he had to find at least some leads to help his quest. 

‘Tell me what I want to know!’ he ordered the creature.

The demon just laughed, then said: ‘Gojyo, dear, is this how you repay your mother for giving you life?’

Gojyo was silent, but Hakkai said: ‘Sanzo, it is not going to talk, you should finish the exorcism.’

Sanzo sighed – after all that effort, no useful information had come forth. He took a deep breath, concentrated all his mental and spiritual powers on the single purpose of purging the evil from this world, and started chanting the sutra.

_Monk Sanzo trapped the demon in a cage of sacred words, used his sutra and destroyed the monster – it burned in flames as hot as the tears of mothers whose children it had devoured. Yet the creature had refused to tell monk Sanzo anything about the demon king, so once again monk Sanzo had to continue his journey without a known destination._

The three of them stood there silently and watched the house burn. 

‘I certainly did not expect the demon to explode like that,’ Hakkai broke the silence. ‘Does that always happen during exorcism?’

‘No,’ Sanzo replied sarcastically. ‘Usually the demons turn into rainbows and sparkles.’ He felt rather embarrassed at such an oversight; they should have prepared some water or sand to throw on the flames.

Gojyo was uncharacteristically quiet, and Sanzo was almost tempted to make a nasty joke. He was stopped only by the fact that Hakkai was protectively hovering near Gojyo and would quite probably punch Sanzo if he tried that. 

‘So what are the two of you going to do now?’ Sanzo asked instead.

‘Well, I thought travelling could be nice,’ Hakkai said. ‘I managed to grab some of the necessities while we were leaving.’ 

He indicated a couple of sizeable bundles at his feet, and Sanzo could not help but raise an eyebrow – Hakkai was apparently efficient at packing, if he got that much stuff out of a burning building.

‘Good luck then,’ Sanzo told them, and turned around to leave.

‘Not so fast, Sanzo-sama!’ Gojyo said, and Sanzo almost groaned. He had hoped he would be able to leave without talking to that person.

‘You destroyed my home, so I think it’s only fair if you take responsibility,’ Gojyo announced. Sanzo was nearly speechless at that sort of impudence.

‘What do you want, me to pay for your miserable house?’ Sanzo asked.

‘Nah, nothing so bad. I just want you to take me and Hakkai with you!’ Gojyo replied with a smirk.

‘Are you out of your bloody mind?’ Sanzo wanted to say, but did not. The truth was, travelling alone was getting tiring, and especially wasting a load of time to light a camp fire.

‘All right, you may come with me. But if you slow me down, I’ll leave you behind. And if you get in the way of my mission, I’ll kill you,’ Sanzo said.

‘Sanzo-sama is too kind,’ mockingly replied Gojyo, but he looked quite relieved at Sanzo’s answer. He picked up one of the bundles of things, and asked the other two: ‘So where are we going?’

‘No idea,’ groused Sanzo.

‘Actually, I was investigating my father’s papers the other day, and found some interesting directions,’ Hakkai said, grabbing his pack of stuff.

‘What directions?’ Sanzo asked suspiciously.

‘We must travel to the East,’ Hakkai cheerfully replied.

So they did.  
***

**The Institute of Oriental Culture of the University of Tokyo had discovered the so-called ‘Chronicles of Monk Sanzo’ in one of the family archives that were donated to the researchers in the late 1950s. Unfortunately, the origin of the document cannot be determined, but the age of the material, the style of the calligraphy, and the vocabulary all indicate that the document is genuine. Some research authorities claim that the document is based on true historic events.**

The End


End file.
